Archives for October 2017

You know how in Boy Meets World, Mr. Feeny is Cory’s teacher for, like, his entire life? It starts off sweet and subtle — Feeny teaches young Cory little childhood lessons here and there. He sticks around through Cory’s middle school years and offers advice Cory doesn’t even know he needs yet. Then Cory gets to high school and it’s kind of weird that Feeny’s still around — this isn’t really how the public education system works and also like, who is teaching the other middle schoolers now? Cory tries to stray from Feeny’s influence for a little while, but ultimately comes back around and continues to appreciate and learn from Feeny through college and even into his adult like.

For me, that teacher is Rihanna.

Like Cory, I didn’t understand the influence my teacher had over me early on, in 2005, when a 9-year-old Erin heard “Pon de Replay” for the first time. But by the time I was 11, “Umbrella” had taught me everything I needed to know about maintaining strong friendships. Rihanna exemplified the impossible complexity of abusive relationships — the strength and courage it takes to leave an abuser, the confusion and guilt of wanting to stay, the grief that comes with losing someone you love in spite of everything — before I knew I would need to learn those lessons for myself. In high school, Rihanna released Talk That Talk and I tried to stray (a.k.a. I ditched all my favorite pop music for indie/alternative — dumb), but I ultimately came back around when “Stay” came out.

Now, 12 years after my first Rihanna lesson (I guess I’m a senior at Fenty University), it’s clear that this woman still has so damn much to teach me.

The most recent lesson came in the midst of a body image crisis, the likes of which I haven’t seen since ninth grade.

I knew I had gained some weight during my time in Tokyo — I had reintroduced red meat into my diet and my body definitely noticed. But it wasn’t until I tried on my Halloween costume (70s flower child) that the panic set in. My whole costume revolved around my very favorite jeans: a pair of embroidered bell-bottoms from Spell & the Gypsy Collective, which have been my feel-good pants since I snagged them from a Buffalo Exchange. They’ve always fit me perfectly, and suddenly I couldn’t fit them over my new carnivore thighs.

Call me dramatic, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt worse about myself. I texted my group chat in all caps to let them know about my crisis, immediately went for a run and vowed not to eat anything that wasn’t 100% plant-based for the foreseeable future.

But then, the next day, I was sitting at work (hungry), catching up on some reading while I waited for a source to call back. I finally read that Rihanna interview with The Cut that everyone’s been talking about recently.

“I actually have had the pleasure of a fluctuating body type, where one day I can literally fit into something that is bodycon, and then the next day — the next week — I need something oversized,” she told The Cut. “I really pay attention every day when I go into the closet about what’s working for my body that morning.”

I had never thought of body changes as a “pleasure” before. I liked my body the way it was and every subtle change shocked me when I looked in the mirror, even if the people around me didn’t notice. But once I started thinking about it, I realized I felt genuinely healthier and stronger. And honestly? My butt looks way better in jeans now (the ones that still fit, that is). The extra pounds came with little bits of body joy: better-fitting bras, healthy legs in heels and the option to pull off looks I couldn’t fill out when my body was a little thinner.

In Season 7, Episode 17 of Boy Meets World, Mr. Feeny tells Topanga, “Unfortunately we live in a society where they tell us we have to look a certain way, so we’re all under pressure to live up to unrealistic expectations.”

But in “Jump,” Rihanna said, “Think I give a damn? Boy, don’t you know who I am?” which is a significantly more helpful mantra.

I don’t know if one Rihanna interview can solve years of body image issues, but it’s at least given me a lot to think about — the goal of any great lesson. Tomorrow night, I’m going to stuff my thighs into those jeans and not stress over the fact that they look thicker than I’m used to. I’m not going to avoid Halloween candy. I’m going to spend the next couple months wearing the hell out of dresses I can finally fill out. And when I get home and readjust to my normal diet and lifestyle in the States, if my weight fluctuates again, that’ll be okay too.

Halloween is huge in Tokyo — as I write this in a local coffee shop, I can see half a dozen pumpkin decorations without even turning my head. As I prepare for Halloween in Shibuya — the nightlife epicenter of Tokyo — I find myself running into the same challenges I’ve faced every year since I graduated high school. My Halloween costume confusion got me reminiscing on this blog post I wrote in 2014, during my first semester of college. Now my last Halloween as an undergraduate is approaching and I relate to 18-year-old Erin more than ever.

When it came time to brainstorm costume ideas for my first college Halloween, I started by reminiscing about Halloweens past. I quickly realized that none of my favorite homemade costumes were going to cut it in college — I didn’t have time to enlist my grandmother’s help sewing a full-on Disney princess costume, I wasn’t yet close enough with any of my college friends to revisit the nerdy BFF costumes I wore in high school and I couldn’t imagine a crowded house party in the green Lego costume of 2001. Still hopeful, I dragged my boyfriend to the Halloween store to look for ideas, but after half an hour of wandering the store, I found myself confused, exhausted and still costume-less. Now, days from Halloween, I still don’t have a costume, but I do at least have a better understanding of what I’m calling the Five Stages of Halloween.

Stage 1: Over-ambition

Halloween is my favorite holiday, so I spend all year racking up ideas “for next Halloween,” which, of course, never come to fruition. Brilliant ideas for group costumes get less and less elaborate as Halloween creeps up and suddenly, I’m going to be Medusa and I’ll get real snakes for my hair and I’ll actually turn people to stone and and and… becomes Maybe I’ll just buy my costume this year.

Stage 2: Confusion

Suddenly it’s two weeks before Halloween and you have no time to make a mind-blowing costume, so you shamefully drag yourself to the Halloween store to look for something over-priced and cheaply made. There, you find yourself in an alternate universe where very normal things are marketed as “sexy.” Was that a sexy corn costume? Is that supposed to be ironic? Why does it cost $60? Pair with that incredibly racist “sexy Indian” costume* and you’ve got yourself the makings of a nice, wholesome first Thanksgiving theme (or porno?). You notice a nurse costume marketed towards men which, shockingly, actually looks like something a nurse would wear. Next to it is the nurse costume for women, which is called “Naughty Nurse,” costs $40 more for significantly less fabric and comes with a working syringe for your booze! You move on, and notice a similar pattern with various other professions, including police officer and soldier.

Stage 3: Anger

Okay, seriously now, does there have to be a sexy Chucky costume? What is sexy about a murderous talking doll? Even worse is the sexy Olaf costume. Why aren’t soccer moms everywhere fighting to protect the sanctity of Disney’s Frozen? Is nothing sacred? Obviously not, you think as you pass the sexy nun costumes. At this point, you’re pissed off. You suddenly hate all men and the misogynist expectations associated with Halloween costumes and you hate sexy costume-wearing women for perpetuating the tradition. You remember overhearing a guy on your floor say, “I think for girls, Halloween is just an excuse to wear as little as possible,” and start fuming. I’ll show them, you think. I’ll wear as many layers as I can this Halloween! I’ll go to the Halloween party as laundry! You realize you may have crazy eyes and it’s probably time to leave the Halloween store.

Stage 4: Guilt

Once you start thinking a little more rationally, you feel ashamed for judging your classmates based on whether or not they choose to wear a “sexy” Halloween costume. No one’s worth is determined by how little they choose to wear, so whether the girl next to you on the dance floor is dressed as a sheet ghost or barely dressed at all, defend her and her choices. I could use this holiday to take back female sexuality and empower myself! you think. The new riot grrrl revolution lies in sexy Halloween costumes! Then you realize you’re more of a Zooey Deschanel than an Angelina Jolie and you’d look more awkward than sexy and rebellious in anything too skimpy. You can still feel empowered this Halloween by refraining from using sexist slurs like “slut” to describe anyone’s costume. The sexy costume isn’t your thing? Don’t fall under the pressure to wear one, but also remember not to chastise those who do. Admire their confidence and move on.

Stage 5: Giving in and wearing cat ears

So here we are. Halloween is upon us and if you’re anything like me, you’ve gone through all four previous stages of Halloween and now find yourself defeated and still lacking a costume. Your worst nightmare is coming true — you’re settling for the easy way out. You can’t even say it. C-a-t. It’s time to accept your fate — you’re going out this Halloween wearing the least creative costume there is. But you find relief in your less-than-purrfect costume. Maybe you even find comfort in the sisterhood of millions of girls who have resorted to cat ears and whiskers on Halloween. Maybe the quintessential Halloween costume for feminists is the cat — the costume that brings us all together.

There is no masochist like the Cancer who falls for Libras. As Mitskitweeted from her astrology account (an astro bible if you’re not already following), the Idealist just isn’t prepared to give Cancers the attention they need to survive (we’re literally like Tinkerbell). And yet I continue to surround myself with fucking Libras. Now that Libra Season is over and celestial power is returning to a water sign, I feel like it’s time for me to be honest about my lifelong dating woes — by providing the comprehensive guide to the types of Libras whose traps I’ve fallen into. Because, you know, why take responsibility for your relationships when you can blame the stars?

The High School Boyfriend

We had been best friends for years, and to our school friends we were a perfect match. The thing about Cancers and Libras is there’s a certain level of surface compatibility — we shared similar tastes in art and music, both preferred staying in to going out and spent long Sunday afternoons baking and dancing around the kitchen.

But we both hated conflict and eventually that grew into deep resentment. Cancer and Libra are both cardinal signs — we were both too headstrong for our own good and had a lot of maturing to do, making compromise a struggle. Ended disastrously. Sparked a lifelong distaste for Libras (but here I am, years later, still surrounded by them).

The College Boyfriend

Basically just the high school boyfriend again, expect he didn’t even like baking (not that we had reliable access to an oven during freshman year of college) and didn’t challenge me at all. There was literally no reason for me to be dating this guy.

The Libra Sun/Pisces Moon

No complaints. Had his chart at the ready as if he immediately sensed that I would have run the other way had he not been ample parts water sign. He’s the best possible mix of Libra and Pisces (I love Pisces!) — empathetic, emotionally-available, level-headed. Logical when I couldn’t be. Good good good.

The Pisces who Must Have Some Libra Somewhere in His Chart Because WTF

Alternately titled “Why Don’t You Know Your Birth Time and the Exact ZIP Code of the Hospital You Were Born At Off the Top of Your Head?”

This guy was a solid Pisces, but must have had a healthy dose of Libra somewhere because as compassionate and empathetic as he was, he easily got caught up in indecision, which doesn’t bode well for romantic success with a Cancer. This Pisces, however, has a more admirable sense of fairness than any of the real Libras I’ve met and I value his insight to this day.

The Libra-Scorpio Cusp

The best kind of Libra-Cancer pairing! That is, a short-term, casual one. We shared an appreciation for beauty and luxury and had complementing tastes. We both had strong personalities, but they manifested respectfully — we challenged each other in a way only Libras and Cancers can.

Had this relationship gone anywhere, it probably would have ended just as badly as the other ones. (But honestly, I kind of think we could have taken over the world. Think Frank and Claire Underwood — this guy was almost a Scorpio and Claire could definitely be a cut-throat kind of Cancer.)

BONUS: The BFF — Not Even a Trap!

I don’t actually hate every Libra — just the ones I want to love me. I love Kim K! F. Scott Fitzgerald was a Libra. Hell, even Erin Moran, the late “Happy Days” star I share a name with, was a Libra. And my friendships with Libras are some of the most fulfilling in my life (shout out to you, Savannah!) My Libra friends always have a way of grounding me when I get a little too Cancer-y. The same goes for my best friend, who is a Scorpio through and through but still cusp-y (although she won’t admit it) — thank you for keeping me in line. Love you.

WELCOME

Hi there! Welcome to Hell in a Headband, a personal fashion and travel blog by Erin Moran. I’m a Philadelphia-based writer who’s mostly excited about eye cream (and also ice cream) and downloading apps to track my water intake and sleep but never using them. Follow along for thoughts about fashion, lifestyle and navigating the world.